Games of Love
by Tanith2011
Summary: When d'Artagnan falls victim to the King's cousin's unwelcome advances, he learns from his brothers the games that people would play for the sake of love. With the threat of imminent danger in their midst, just how far will Mademoiselle De Bonnay go and at what price will her games of love cost her and those sworn to protect her? Will d'Artagnan lose more than Constance's heart?
1. Prologue

_**AN: Not sure if this will stay as a one shot or if I'll add another chapter or more to it. For the time being, it can be read as a one shot.**_

 _ **Thank you, as always, in advance for taking the time to read my story.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

"She put your dagger in her what?" Aramis almost shouted, only to receive a hard kick in the shin by his young drinking companion.

Red in the face d'Artagnan nervously glanced around the tavern, hoping no one heard.

"I don't know what you're so worried about," Athos said nonchalantly before raising his tankard and drowning himself in it.

"No wine?" Porthos observed with surprise.

Athos wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head. "Not yet. I'm thirsty."

"Hmph," Porthos returned his attention to the Gascon.

"So, tell me again how this is an issue?" Aramis continued, leaning across the table as the noise was becoming rather raucous.

"Come on, Aramis. I can't very well slip my hand in there and dig around," d'Artagnan replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Well, I would and believe me _I have_ ," Aramis replied with a smile.

D'Artagnanan had chosen that moment to take a swig of ale. Naturally he choked on the beverage.

Porthos gave the young man a few hard slaps on the back.

"You what?!" d'Artagnan choked out with a cough. His eyes were watering adding to his embarrassment as Porthos handed him a handkerchief.

"There, there. It's not worth shedding any tears over," Porthos chuckled.

Aramis sighed at d'Artagnan's naivety. "My dear friend," he began, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You have much to learn about Gabrielle De Bonnay."

"Still, I doubt a lesson in Mademoiselle De Bonnay's undergarments is going to do me much good right now," d'Artagnan spluttered.

"True," Aramis agreed thoughtfully, removing his hand from d'Artagnan's shoulder and leaning back in his chair.

"Aren't you going to help me?" the Gascon pleaded.

"If your meaning of help involves me searching for your dagger in the King's second cousin's corset then you're asking the wrong person," Aramis waved his hands in the negative.

"You said you've done it before!"

"Yes but under different circumstances."

"How different?"

"It was _my_ dagger that ended up in there. Sorry."

D'Artagnan buried his face in his hands and groaned then ran his fingers through his hair.

"She'll give it back eventually. It's just this silly game she likes to play, you see?" Aramis tried to reassure his friend but it seemed to be failing.

"I don't care about the dagger! It's Constance I'm worried about! If she ever finds out…"

"It's your fault anyway," Athos chimed in.

"And how is it my fault, pray tell?" d'Artagnan snapped.

"Let me see," Athos theatrically rubbed his chin as if deep in thought. "Ah yes, who stormed into that room in the first place, ready to engage in some foolhardy duel?"

"I heard a woman screaming and assumed it was Mademoiselle in peril."

"Did it ever not occur to you why we did not react so enthusiastically?" Aramis asked.

"Besides, it was Monsieur Rougemont who was doing all that awful screaming," added Porthos.

"Thank you Porthos for pointing that out. I realized that after I…never mind all that. The point is…"

Athos cut across d'Artagnan. "I know you grew up on a farm but did your father never teach you about these sorts of places where people pay for bedroom entertainment?"

"For _men_ , yes."

"Well, now you know there are places for women too." The smallest hint of a smirk appeared on Athos's ruggedly handsome face.

D'Artagnan shot a glare in Athos's direction but the older musketeer was busy ordering a bottle of wine. A thought then suddenly occurred to the young man and he slowly turned to face Aramis. "Please tell me you never worked as a _you know_ …"

"A prostitute? Okay, now I'm hurt," Aramis feigned feeling insulted.

D'Artagnan raised an eyebrow.

"Firstly, a gentlemen never asks a woman for money when it comes to, well, anything really. Secondly, it pays better to be a musketeer so to answer your question,"

It didn't quite answer d'Artagnan's question but whatever Aramis's past occupation was, it was of no consequence to the matter at hand.

"Mademoiselle De Bonnay is well known for her late night engagements whenever she visits Paris which thankfully is only once a year. This is why the King assigned us to escort her back to the palace tonight," Athos explained. "And each time, she always succeeds in pick pocketing a trophy from one lucky musketeer."

"And it had to be me," d'Artagnan sighed.

"Welcome to the games of love," said Porthos. "Your training has just begun it seems."

"Great. You may as well kill me now."

"Ye of little faith in Madam Bonacieux," Aramis scolded playfully.

"Well, what am I going to tell her? That dagger was a gift from her."

"Tell her the truth," Athos suggested, his tone had grown darker as he drank his wine. The amusement in the conversation becoming lost as the emptiness in his heart began to weigh him down.

One look at Porthos and Aramis told the Gascon, they were in agreement with Athos.

"For the sake of my life, I hope you are right, gentlemen," d'Artagnan held out his tankard for a toast then he excused himself to return to his quarters.

"I'll accompany you," Aramis volunteered with a yawn. He bade his brothers good night and gave Porthos a silent message to make sure he leaves with Athos very soon. The master swordsman was known for his brooding and tonight was no different, except the ordinarily amusing situation between their young friends seemed to have a darker effect on him. Of course drinking didn't help matters and it certainly wasn't going to make him think straight.

"Don't know what all the fuss is about," Porthos shrugged once d'Artagnan and Aramis had left.

Athos stared into the bottom of his glass and lamented over his own mistakes and those made by his estranged wife. He hoped d'Artagnan and Constance would never have to fall victim to the darker games played for the sake of love. "It's about honesty and trust. D'Artagnan has to learn that keeping secrets from Constance, no matter how small, will become a habit and that habit will turn into poison, ultimately killing the love they have for one another. As for Constance, she will be tested time and time again for her trust in d'Artagnan. Without trust, what is there but a bitter taste?"

Porthos remained silent as he listened to his friend. "I'll drink to that." He raised his cup and drank the last of his drink.

Neither men spoke for a time after that as exhaustion and the effects of alcohol slowly took hold. Then as the night wore down, they left the tavern together in silence.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Apologies for not having thanked all my reviewers yet. I do appreciate you taking the time to leave me feedback. I have decided to expand on this story though I'm not sure how often I will be able to update. If I've made a mistake with anything related to the time frame (I'm placing this between episode 2.6 and 2.7), era/historical accuracy or canon please let me know either in a review or PM. I'm still not quite confident writing in this fandom as the series is still rather new to me and I've only watched the episode once.**

 **Jeangoony: Thank you for continuing to follow my stories in this fandom. I am happy to give you some background information on the characters in a pm if you like? I can confirm that yes d'Artagnan is rather young (early 20's perhaps) and Athos is a married man though you will find out later on about his relationship with his estranged wife, Milady De Winter.**

 **Tanith**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

The next day, d'Artagnan followed Athos, Aramis and Porthos to attend a council with the King and his radiant wife, Queen Anne.

"So, how was your morning?" Athos pointedly asked their youngest as they walked briskly down the corridor of the palace.

"My head hurts," d'Artagnan replied, rubbing his temples.

"Be that from the drinking or the thinking?" Aramis teased good-naturedly.

"Let me guess. He's been avoiding Madam Bonacieux all morning and has been trying to conjure up an elaborate story to explain away the disappearance of his dagger," Porthos said mockingly. "It ain't gonna work, you know that right?"

"Just tell her the truth!" Athos insisted.

"It's not that simple," d'Artagnan replied in exasperation.

All three companions rolled their eyes but resigned to the fact that their young friend was only going to make matters worse for himself.

When they reach the throne room, the men bowed before their King and Queen. D'Artagnan's eye caught Constance's and he allowed a matching discreet smile to cross his face before returning his attention to his majesty.

"As you are all aware, the annual Royal Ball will be held tonight right here at the palace. Your captain is going over the guest list with Rochefort as we speak to ensure a successful evening of glorious entertainment," Louis pompously reminded the musketeers. "I trust you have each been briefed with the guard detail?"

"Rest assured, Your Majesty, we have everything under control," Athos confirmed with a small bow.

"Good. There is one last thing I need to settle," Louis began but an interruption in the form of his flamboyant second cousin entering the room stopped him before he could continue, much to his annoyance. "Gabrielle, how nice of you to join us."

"Forgive me Louis, I'm afraid I rather overslept," Gabrielle De Bonnay apologized with a hiccup.

"As I was saying," the King repeated in a frustrated tone. "I have one last matter to put forth. My dear cousin, Mademoiselle De Bonnay shall be attending the ball this year and will require an escort."

The musketeers stole very brief sidelong glances at one another and d'Artagnan tried to shrink behind Porthos without much success. It was clear no none wanted to be the lucky escort though it appeared to be an inevitable outcome for one of them.

"Oh d'Artagnan! I have something to return to you," the cheerful brunette exclaimed in delight, having spotted the young Gascon between his comrades. She stepped forward and held out an object wrapped in cloth tied with a piece of ribbon.

D'Artagnan gulped and pretended to be oblivious, though it didn't help when Aramis gave him a nudge to move toward the young woman. "Me, Mademoiselle?" He enquired in a rather high pitched voice.

Gabrielle let out a giggle. "Yes, you, silly! You left this in my chambers last night while I was getting dressed. You do remember, yes?"

D'Artagnan lost all faculty of speech. He felt himself blushing deeply one moment then losing all color the next when his eyes met Constance's. His throat became constricted at the look of surprise and confusion on her face.

"You weren't this quiet last night. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Gabrielle chuckled as she sauntered up to the musketeer and unwrapped the cloth, revealing a beautifully crafted dagger.

D'Artagnan took the dagger from the young lady and quickly sheathed it. "Thank you, Mademoiselle," he managed to croak.

"Are you unwell?" Gabrielle reached up and placed a hand on d'Artagnan's forehead but the young man flinched away. "Goodness, you are a little warm."

Louis cleared his throat audibly and with a roll of his eyes as his patience continued to wane, he pointedly said, "Before I was rudely interrupted…"

"I've found my escort, Your Majesty," Gabrielle cut in once again, her eyes fixated on d'Artagnan.

Aramis found the Queen's eyes and he tried to communicate with her using his thoughts but there was little use. She gave him an apologetic smile that only he could see.

"Very well. D'Artagnan, you shall be Mademoiselle De Bonnay's escort for the evening," the King declared, glad to settle the matter. His head was starting to ache just listening to his cousin's squeaky voice and he prayed each day that her departure would arrive swifty.

D'Artagnan felt like he'd just taken a punch in the gut by the largest Red Guard in Rochefort's unit. He sought Constance but she had turned her head to one side and whispered something to the Queen who patted her arm and gave her a nod. The last thing he saw before the King dismissed everyone was Constance's back as she grabbed at her skirts and hurried through a door leading into another chamber.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: I just wanted to thank all my readers for continuing to follow this tale. I appreciate the support. My gratitude also goes out to all those who reviewed, favorited or subscribed to receive alerts for my story. I have made some changes to the summary to reflect the direction in which story will be taking.**

 **Jeangoony - Please bear with me...I will send you a PM once I am able to piece together an appropriate summary for you on the series and the characters :-) I've not forgotten!**

 **Tanith**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

D'Artagnan wanted nothing more than to hurry after Constance's retreating back but Captain Treville's orders left him with no choice but to follow his comrades back to his office.

"She'll forgive you….eventually," Aramis tried to reassure his young friend but knew he was failing miserably.

"D'Artagnan, give her time then go to her and explain. She will have calmed down enough to listen by then," Athos advised.

D'Artagnan felt a small glimmer of hope at the genuinity in Athos's eyes. He nodded, though remained subdued throughout the day and even while they trained, he was impassive and somber. The others tried to lift his spirits with some mild mannered teasing and jokes but there was little else they could do to soothe the ache in his heart. After the dramatic events in which they were held hostages along with the King and Queen and the Dauphin, Constance had finally made her decision to commit herself to him and to find a way in which to end her marriage with her husband. Now, d'Artagnan feared Constance would denounce their love for one another and that he would lose her forever.

"My young friend, there is still time before you are due to be at Mademoiselle De Bonnay's chambers," Aramis urged, wrapping an arm around the Gascon's shoulders as they headed back to their quarters to change into their uniforms.

"Go to Constance while there is still time!" Athos emphasized. He wanted, badly, to shake some sense into the boy and if it weren't for the fact that Porthos and Aramis were already standing on either side of him, he probably would have.

"They're right, y'know," Porthos nodded in agreement.

The four companions came to a halt when they reached the entrance leading to their quarters. D'Artagnan looked from one man to the next and drew a deep breath. "All right, I will go see her." He felt the reassuring pats on his back and heard the murmured good luck wishes as his friends departed, leaving him with what he felt was an insurmountable challenge ahead of him.

* * *

Meanwhile back at the palace, Comte De Rochefort paced a deserted hallway, away from prying eyes. With the palace bustling in anticipation for the annual Royal Ball, he found privacy was difficult to come by. A shadow fell across his feet and he approached the robed figure with an impatient sigh. "It's about time."

The robed man peeled back his hood. "I had a little trouble getting past the King's musketeers. They seem to be occupying every corner."

Rochefort did not care for the accusatory tone of the man standing before him. "The Royal Ball has that effect on the Palace and its guards," he said drily. "I trust your men are readily positioned, Armand?"

"Of course. And our deal?"

Rochefort lazily withdrew a pouch from his pocket and held it out between them. "Three hundred Livre. Another three hundred once you and your men complete the mission."

Armand took the leather pouch from Rochefort's and checked the weight in his hand. Untying the draw string, he peered inside to make sure he was not being fooled. Satisfied with the payment, the assassin pulled the drawstring and retied it then pocketed the pouch.

"And remember, there is to be no blood spilled on the palace grounds," Rochefort reminded Armand.

"The woman will be no trouble for my men to handle, but I trust her escort to be a little less compliant, yes?"

The corners of Rochefort's mouth curled into an evil smile. "A minor hindrance, though not impossible to overcome."

"I do not understand. There is something you are not telling me." Armand was puzzled. Rochefort hired him to kidnap the King's cousin then to frame the unfortunate soul who was to be her escort to the ball. He was reluctant with the second part of his mission. His men were trained to kill, not to leave witnesses alive, however, Rochefort had assured him the escort would be an under skilled swordsman.

"Madmoiselle De Bonnay's escort is a musketeer," Rochefort revealed. He had intentionally left that minor detail out, knowing that Armand would not be able to back out of the deal now that his men are already in place. He was, however, relieved when Louis had chosen the inexperienced Gascon rather than assigned Athos or Aramis to fulfill the role of an escort.

Armand swore under his breath. "You promised me there would be no complications. A musketeer is one big complication!"

"I would hardly call him a musketeer. He will not be an issue."

"My men will be relying on that. If things get…complicated, they may have little choice but to eliminate any threat that gets in their way. Is that understood?"

Rochefort nodded. "Of course, but bear in mind that killing the musketeer will forfeit three hundred Livre. Only when the job is completed are you entitled the rest of your reward. I may even feel generous enough to add another two hundred Livre as a gesture of good faith."

Armand's eyes flashed with greed. How could he resist another two hundred Livre on top of what he was originally promised? "Very well. Your musketeer will face the executioner's blade for the murder of Mademoiselle De Bonnay. My men and I will see to it, Rochefort."

"Good. Do not fail me."

With a bow of his head, Armand pulled his hood back in place then melted back into the shadows. Whatever Rochefort's grievance with the King's cousin it was of no consequence to him. As long as he was paid, that was all that mattered.


	4. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you to my readers for your continued support and special thanks to those who favorited or reviewed so far. I appreciate the feedback. I'm trying to balance out the humor with the romance, mystery and drama so hopefully it is working. There will be action, h/c and adventure thrown into the mix as well.**

 **Tanith**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Holding a single red rose in one hand, D'Artagnan knocked on Constance's door with his free hand. He waited with bated breath for her face to appear as footsteps could be heard from within the room. The hope that lit in his eyes, however, was quickly extinguished when it was Monsieur Bonacieux's face that appeared in the doorway.

"Yes? Can I be of assistance d'Artagnan?" Bonacieux asked in a disinterested tone. His eyes caught the rose in the young man's hand and a frown crossed over his features. He had no doubt whom the Gascon was expecting to open the door.

"My apologies, Monsieur. I was wondering if I may have a word with Constance, please?" D'Artagnan requested awkwardly.

"She's not here," Bonacieux replied bluntly. His eyes once again finding the rose. "Is that for me?" He pointed at the flower.

D'Artagnan looked down at the stem in his hand and let out a short nervous laugh before meeting the icy glare of the cloth merchant.

"When Constance returns, could you be so kind as to let her know I was here?" D'Artagnan politely asked, though he had a feeling his message would not reach her.

Just before the young musketeer could step away, two cool hands formed shutters over his eyes and a squeaky voice cooed in his ear, "Guess who, my handsome hero?"

D'Artagnan gently pried the cool and soft delicate fingers from his face then turned his head to the side. He raised an eyebrow at the young woman who had just commandeered him. "Mademoiselle?"

"Oui! Ooh is that for me?" Gabrielle's eyes sparkled in delight as they found the rose in d'Artagnan's hand. Her deft fingers quickly snatched it out of his grasp.

"Mademoiselle," Bonacieux bowed his head in greeting then with the slightest smirk he addressed d'Artagnan, "I will make sure _my wife_ gets your message. Perhaps we shall join you and Mademoiselle at the ball later this evening."

"That would be lovely, Bonacieux! Come now, d'Artagnan, we mustn't be late." Hooking her arm through the musketeer's, Gabrielle led him down the hallway, completely oblivious of the solemn expression on his face.

* * *

Constance tore her eyes away from the scene and pressed herself against the wall around the corner of her chambers. While she could not make out the words that were spoken by d'Artagnan or her husband, she had no trouble overhearing Mademoiselle's distinct high pitched voice and her uncontained giggling. She hadn't intended on spying on them but she couldn't bring herself to make her appearance known to d'Artagnan when she saw the pretty brunette take the rose from his hand. She had just returned from helping Lady Marguerite put the restless Dauphin to sleep when she stumbled upon the scene. She blinked away the tears that started to manifest and berated herself for feeling jealous and for letting her self-confidence be torn down so easily. It wasn't the first time she had felt this way. Not so long ago, she had made her insecurities known to d'Artagnan when he had accepted money from Milady de Winter to pay for his entry fee into a contest. Even though he had professed his love for her on that occasion and thereafter, she didn't feel she could compare with Milady when it came to her beauty, elegance, wealth and intelligence. Now, here she was, feeling much the same way, only worse, because she had only just recently dedicated her heart to d'Artagnan first and foremost. She knew it was wrong to so much as contemplate divorcing her husband. No, it was much more than that. It was a sin. It went against what her parents believed in. They had given her away on her wedding day to Jacques-Michel Bonacieux, a renowned and respectable cloth merchant for the nobility. She should be grateful and perhaps for a time she was. Until d'Artagnan came into her life that is. Fallen at her feet, unconscious from injuries he sustained while escaping the Red Guards. Since then, they had been through so much together, but was it enough? Was it worth losing a life she was accustomed to? A life without complications and bereft of the dangers that the musketeers had brought into her once calm and boring world? She shut her eyes, breathed deeply and wrapped her arms around herself when the answer to her question made her heart ache with longing. Yes, it was worth it and the thought of losing d'Artagnan to the notion of what could have been, brought her more pain than she could handle.

 _What if d'Artagnan felt he had made a mistake?_

* * *

The Royal Ball was in full swing, with the King and Queen leading the dancefloor. From the sidelines three musketeers stood at various intervals watching the celebration and feasting, while keeping an eye out for any uninvited guests who may pose a threat to his majesty.

One particular musketeer, however, found himself mesmerized as his gaze followed Anne sweeping along the floor in a handsome dress that flattered her willowy figure.

"Oy, put your eyes back in that 'ead of yers before you lose 'em," Porthos whispered.

Aramis blinked and cleared his throat then looked innocently at his friend beside him. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. I was merely keeping an eye on the proceedings."

The burly musketeer grunted in response then changed the subject, "You seen d'Artagnan? He should've been 'ere by now."

Aramis quickly scanned the crowd but could not find their young friend amongst them. Still, he couldn't find any cause for them to worry.

"Say, ye don't think he and you know…er….well?"

"What? You mean d'Artagnan and De Bonnay?" Aramis raised his eyebrows, clearly finding the idea of the Gascon engaged in Madmoiselle De Bonnay's bedroom games preposterous. "Don't be ridiculous. D'Artagnan values his life and his assets too much to be unfaithful to Madam Bonacieux. She is after all rather deft with a blade and musket, in case you've forgotten."

"It's never stopped you though, 'as it?" Porthos half teased.

"I assume you're not referring to me and Madam Bonacieix. For the record, I am not unfaithful. I have no one to which I pledge my heart and soul to," Aramis countered with a wink.

Porthos rolled his eyes just as a hand clapped on his shoulder and Aramis's.

"Why do I feel I am the only one working tonight, hmm?" Athos squeezed himself between his two comrades.

"Our mutual friend here is concerned for d'Artagnan's welfare," said Aramis.

"Has no one seen him?" Athos asked, an edge of worry creeping into his voice.

Both Aramis and Porthos shook their heads in the negative.

Athos sighed. "The King is expected to dance with his cousin after he has made his speech which is due at any moment now. I best find them both."

"There he is!" Aramis blurted out all of a sudden as he pointed toward the double doors that swung open revealing the Gascon, with a forced smile plastered on his face and a contented looking Mademoiselle De Bonnay with her arm linked through his.

"He looks like e's walkin' to the gallows, don't 'e?" Porthos cringed.


End file.
